The brutal abduction of a teenage girl sets in motion a
horrific plot that pits Special Agent Kelly Jones and her
fiancé, freelance private investigator Jake Riley, against
the worst kind of terrorist -- homegrown.
Set on resolving America's increasing immigration problem,
a newly elected government official will do whatever it
takes to succeed -- no matter the cost. Calling himself The
Gatekeeper, he's uniting hate groups of all types, setting
up a horrific attack in America. Will Kelly and Jake
uncover the facts quickly enough to thwart the attack? And
will their relationship survive the turmoil they encounter
at every turn?
Michelle Gagnon has taken incidents ripped from the
headlines and developed a chilling thriller that will leave
readers holding their breath with anticipation of the
outcome, as well as questioning some political leaders'
motives. Difficult to put down, this riveting story never
lets up start to finish.
Drugged then kidnapped, a young girl wakes up to a
nightmare...
From the moment sixteen-year-old Madison Grant is
abducted, an unthinkable terrorist plot is set in motion—
pitting Special Agent Kelly Jones against her most
powerful adversary yet. The kidnapper's ransom demands
aren't monetary...they come at a cost that no American can
afford to pay.
As Kelly's fiancé, Jake Riley, races to find Madison,
Kelly is assigned to another disturbing case: the murder
and dismemberment of a senator. At first the two cases
don't appear to be related. But as Kelly navigates her way
through the darkest communities of America—from skinheads
to biker gangs to border militias—she discovers a horrible
truth. A shadowy figure who calls himself The Gatekeeper
is uniting hate groups, opening the door to the worst
homegrown attack in American history.
Excerpt
Madison Grant leaned over the sink, careful not to get her
jeans wet as she applied another coat of gloss. She rubbed
her lips together, smacked them once, then dabbed the excess
with her fingertip. She examined the resulting pink sheen
critically—perfect. Stepping back, she tossed the wand
into her purse. It was actually her sister's knockoff Fendi.
Bree would totally flip when she realized it was gone.
Hopefully that would distract her from checking for other
things that had gone missing, like her driver's license and
social security card. Of course by that time the shit would
have hit the fan anyway. Their mom would be so freaked out
that Bree's complaints about a stolen purse would fall on
deaf ears. At least that's what Madison was hoping.
She shrugged on the purse and grabbed the handle of her
carry-on. It was their fault for basically ignoring her.
Ever since the divorce, Dad was only a voice on the phone,
and Mom spent most of the day in her room, shades drawn. And
Bree was so busy with her friends, she barely bothered to
talk to Madison. No, the only person who really cared about
her now was Shane.
Madison flushed at the thought of him. They'd only known
each other a few weeks, but she could already tell this was
it, her one true love. They'd met online and instantly hit
it off. She lived for the sweet texts he sent while she sat
in class, bored out of her skull. They had these long,
intense IM sessions where they talked about everything: what
they wanted to be when they grew up, what their families
were like. He was the only person Madison had confided in
about how shitty things had gotten since the divorce, how
awful it was to be dumped in a new city across the country,
how she hated school and everyone in it.
Shane was older, nineteen, in his first year of college at
San Francisco State. But he said the age difference didn't
matter since girls were more mature, and he was totally
right. Madison was a lot older than sixteen in her mind. And
with Bree's license and social security card, she could get
a job. Shane had offered to let her crash with him for as
long as she needed to. He hinted that since they'd be
spending the rest of their lives together anyway, they might
as well get started. When he sent the plane ticket she got
so excited, dancing around her bedroom. Then she swiped some
of the cash her mom hid around the house and lied about
staying with a friend for the weekend. That gave her a few
days before they'd realize she was missing. And now she had
finally arrived.
It was hard to believe she was about to meet Shane in
person. It was going to be perfect, just like in the movies.
They'd kiss, he'd look into her eyes and tell her he loved
her. She'd work at a cool café in the city while he finished
school. Maybe she'd take some classes herself, then
eventually they'd get married. They'd have two kids, a boy
named Max and a girl named Penelope. Someday she might even
call her parents to tell them what a great job she'd done
with her life. They'd forgive her for leaving, and
everything would turn out the way it should have been all along.
On the other side of the security gate, a guy wearing a cap
held a sign that read GRANT. Madison's jaw almost dropped.
Shane must have some serious cash—first the plane
ticket, now a limo? Maybe his family was rich. He was
probably keeping it a secret to see if she liked him for who
he was, like in that movie where the prince pretended to be
a normal guy. Which was silly, she'd love Shane even if he
was totally poor. But she had to admit, the thought of
living in a huge house was definitely appealing. Better yet
she might not have to get a job, she could just hang out all
day. Madison repressed a giggle, trying to look serious and
adult as she approached the driver.
"Hi. Are you here for me?"
The chauffeur eyed her, and she drew herself up to her full
five-seven. "Madison Grant?"
"Yeah. I mean, yes, that's me."
The chauffeur motioned for her bag. She followed him to a
Lincoln Town Car. He popped the trunk, tucked the suitcase
inside, then opened the passenger door. Madison climbed in,
impressed by the plush surroundings. There was even a bottle
of sparkling water in the cup caddy. She unscrewed the cap
and took a swig, then belted herself in. The car eased into
the steady stream of traffic leaving the terminal, and
Madison settled back against the seat.
"You know where we're going, right?" she asked after
a minute.
The driver didn't turn his head, just nodded.
Madison was self-conscious. She'd never been in a limo
before, but thought there was supposed to be one of those
panels between them. Without one, she felt obligated to make
small talk.
"So where are you from?" She asked after a short pause.
The driver didn't respond, and she figured his English
wasn't very good. He looked Russian, at least around the
eyes. Madison sipped more of the water. It had a funny
metallic aftertaste, probably because it was from France.
Her eyelids drooped. The flight had only been six hours, but
she'd spent the whole time amped up in what Dad called her
"condensed matter" state. It wouldn't hurt to take a
little nap, she decided. After all, she didn't want to be
sleepy the first time she met Shane.
When she awoke it was dark. Madison felt drowsy,
disoriented. She wasn't in the car anymore, and wondered if
they'd arrived and the driver hadn't bothered waking her. If
she had been asleep when Shane first saw her that would be
totally embarrassing, she realized, mortification jolting
her from a stupor. She was on some sort of bed, there was a
rough blanket beneath her. Was she in his dorm room? She
stood and felt her way across. It was pitch-black, cold, and
she shivered in her light sweater. Shane had warned her to
pack layers, but she'd wanted to look cute so she'd kept her
fleece jacket in her suitcase. She groped until she reached
the wall. It was freezing and felt like metal. She rapped on
it once, tentatively, then worked her way along it to a
door. There was a handle but it was huge, also metal, and
didn't respond to her tugs. Madison bit her lower lip,
experiencing a tremor of fear. Something was seriously wrong.
"Shane?" She called out hesitantly. Her voice
sounded squeaky. She tried to inject more assurance as she
repeated, "Hey, Shane, are you out there? I think I'm
stuck!"
There was no response. Madison felt a tear trickle down her
face, followed quickly by another. As she slid to the floor
and clasped her knees to her chest, she began sobbing in
earnest. She was all alone, and no one even knew she was
missing.
JUNE 28
Jake Riley leaned back in his chair, crossing his feet on
top of his new desk. It was solid oak, and according to the
antiques dealer had once belonged to George Stein-brenner.
Even if that was bullshit, it was a nice desk, he decided.
And the Steinbrenner story would probably impress potential
clients.
His office was still filled with boxes. It had taken longer
than expected to find a suitable space, commercial rents in
New York were through the roof. Even with the exorbitant
severance package from Jake's previous employer, the new
company would have to secure some contracts soon. But they'd
made the right choice, he thought, gazing through the floor
to ceiling windows. After searching the entire borough for
an office with room to expand, they'd finally settled in one
of the new skyscrapers jutting up around Columbus Circle.
Central Park was across the street, and Jake was looking
forward to eating lunch there, maybe strapping on his
running shoes for a jog on slow days. Although hopefully
there wouldn't be many of those.
He ignored the needling voice that questioned the decision
to branch out on his own. Sure, Dmitri Christou had paid him
well, but for the first time in his life he was his own
boss. And hell, they'd be doing good work along the way.
They'd decided to name the company The Longhorn Group, a nod
to the fact that both he and his partner originally hailed
from Texas. If Jake had his say, The Longhorn Group would
quickly become the go-to company for K&R insurers.
K&R was shorthand for "Kidnap and
Ransom." In recent years there had been a sharp uptick
in the number of kidnappings of American executives abroad,
some figures estimated as high as twenty percent. To secure
the release of abducted employees, many companies hired
private firms to either negotiate with kidnappers or,
failing that, attempt a rescue. South American countries,
particularly Colombia, were the most notorious for
kidnappings, but plenty took place stateside. They just
weren't widely publicized, since no corporation wanted to
put ideas in someone's head. And despite the increased
number of companies signing on for K&R insurance, most
operatives trained in negotiation and recovery were busy
working security details in the Middle East. Jake was hoping
The Longhorn Group would fill that void.
Eventually Kelly might come on board, and they'd be able to
work together again. It was a nice thought. Jake picked up
the sole item on his desk, a framed photo of her, and gazed
at it. It showed her in profile, sitting on a beach, red
hair reflecting the setting sun. She always griped about the
angle, but then she hated every photo of herself. He thought
it captured a side of her that was usually
hidden—there was a vulnerability in the way she held
her knees that always got him. He set the picture back on
the desk. They were officially engaged now, had been for
months, but hadn't set a date.